


Business over Dinner

by junko



Series: Senbonzakura's Song [19]
Category: Bleach
Genre: M/M, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-09
Updated: 2014-06-09
Packaged: 2018-02-04 00:53:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1761143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/junko/pseuds/junko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Renji discovers that Byakuya's first plan for a 'date' is really more of a formal family dinner.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Business over Dinner

Renji followed Eishirō down bustling back halls. 

More servants than Renji had ever seen before rushed here and there, carrying trays and baskets full of steaming hot towels. The back ways of the Kuchiki manor buzzed with hushed excitement and controlled chaos. It wasn’t long before Renji lost track of where they were. He just kept his eyes on Eishirō’s back and the silver threads of the Kuchiki crest that stood out like a beacon from dark blue kimono. 

Suddenly, coming to somewhere preordained, Eishirō stopped. Sliding the door open, he dipped his head, “My apologies. This is but a humble room for you to change in, but I’m afraid it’s all that’s available on such short notice.”

Renji frowned. “Hey, no worries,” Renji said, waving off all this fuss.

Once he stepped through the door, however, Renji realized that he was being shown into someone’s private room. There wasn’t much in it, but Renji could just feel it. A linen closet ran the length of one wall. The only other furniture in the room was a small, utilitarian tansu and a simple four-paneled folding screen. It was plain, simple, with only one personal touch: a small altar set up in the recess of the wall. It held the picture of a woman and a small bowl of flowers sat in front of it. 

Renji almost backed out seeing that. It was too personal. He felt like he was treading into something very private. “Uh…”

“My first wife,” Eishirō said, closing the door behind him. 

“Oh, this is your room,” Renji said, feeling stupid, but not knowing what else to say. “It’s… nice.”

Eishirō nodded stiffly as though embarrassed. Holding out his hand for the kimono, he said, “Please, sir, avail yourself of the privacy screen. We need to get you dressed.”

“Uh… right.” After handing over the silks, Renji started to untie his obi as he walked over to duck behind the screen. He tried not to catch the private scent of wild roses, and cut grass. Renji had never intentionally smelled Eishirō before, and he didn’t really want to start now. Crouching low to stay covered, Renji shuffled quickly out of his clothes. Not sure what to do with his uniform, he let the clothes fall to the floor. Zabimaru, he took care to prop up, gently, against the wall.

Meanwhile, Eishirō carefully unfolded Byakuya’s gift. “Oh my.”

Renji glanced over the top of the screen. “What?”

Eishirō turned the brown kimono around to show Renji the symbol on the back. Painted in white and black was an albino nue, its front paws raised as though for an attack and the snake tail wrapped around to enclose it in a kind of circle. Black lightning strike shaped slashes, like Renji’s tattoos, decorated the nue’s broad shoulder. A ruby red eye glared out fiercely from the fabric. It reminded Renji a little of a stylized version of the one that Byakuya had had sewn into his funeral kimono. 

“The Abarai kamon is beautiful,” Eishirō said, turning it back around to admire it once more. “I had no idea.”

“I don’t… that is, er… is that what that is?”

“It’s not a family crest?”

“Uh…” Family was a complicated and more than a little fraught thing for Renji. Zabimaru was certainly a part of all that, but then so was Rukia, and Renji could never imagine Rukia needing to be under Zabimaru’s aegis. Plus, Renji’d been feeling lately like he’d done a piss poor job of protecting Seichi. “Can you have a personal crest? Because, really, that image there—that’s about as personal as you can get,” hefting up Zabimaru, Renji showed Eishirō the lightning strike in the guard. “See. Could’ve just used this, if he’d wanted to stay simple.”

“Simple? This is his lordship we’re talking about,” Eishirō said with a little smile. “There is no half-way.”

“Heh, true,” Renji agreed, setting Zabimaru back.

Eishirō handed Renji the hidden-frog undershirt, but said, “It would be best if you would let me help you, sir. The nagajuban isn’t quite as straightforward as a shitagi.”

Renji was beginning to see that, looking at all the ties and folds. There was, however, one problem. “I ain’t wearing no underwear.”

Eishirō gave Renji a long, exasperated look. “I have seen you naked before, Lieutenant. Once, I believe, in nothing but a studded collar.”

Renji couldn’t help but laugh. It was either that, or die of embarrassment. “Yeah, okay, good point.”

#

Renji felt conspicuous in so much color. At least the style of kimono included hakama, so he knew how to walk. Eishirō had insisted Renji ‘do something’ with his hair, so it was down, despite Renji’s arguments that up was tidier. Lumbering along behind Eishirō to the main room, Renji noticed heads turning to watch him go by. Conversations died. Mouths hung open.

And these were just the servants.

Byakuya’s family was going to shit to see him. Renji kind of wished he’d been allowed to bring along Zabimaru, but Eishirō had insisted that no one was allowed arms at Kuchiki clan gatherings for numerous reasons, not the least of which was that that was how blood feuds started. He’d further explained that once Renji was introduced he was to make his way to Byakuya’s table. 

Renji felt a flush of nerves. “I don’t have to try to sit all proper the whole night, do I?”

“Can you?”

“No chance.”

Eishirō sighed, “Then there’s your answer.”

“Yeah, but is it better to start or—“

Lifting a hand, Eishirō hushed Renji. They’d come to the main door. “Sit like you normally would with his lordship. I need to introduce you now.” Eishirō turned and did some last minute adjustments to Renji’s kimono, clucked over his hair, and then seemed to give up on that with a sigh. Kneeling down, he slid open the door for Renji and announced, “Sixth Division Lieutenant Abarai Renji.”

Every single Kuchiki in the room… ignored him. Quite pointedly, in fact. Not a single eye spared Renji even a cursory glance. The level of quiet conversation didn’t dip a single decibel. 

Renji scanned the room looking for Byakuya. He wasn’t sure he’d ever been in this room before, at least he didn’t recognize the fusuma panels, which were decorated to look like a marshy garden scene with tall reeds, flowers, and birds and fauna hidden everywhere. Renji thought he even spied a carefully rendered tanuki stealing a fish from the pond in the corner. 

Tables dotted the room and small clusters of families sat around them varying distances from a central dais—ah, right, that’s where Byakuya was. Rukia caught Renji’s eye and gestured him over to the empty seat between herself and Byakuya.

When Renji sat down beside her, she dipped her head in closely and whispered, “Nice threads.”

Renji glanced at Byakuya who was listening intently to something a youngish man sitting beside Aunt Masama was saying, “A gift.”

“Suits your coloring,” Rukia said. 

Sitting like Renji was, his knee touched her thigh on one side and Byakuya’s on the other. 

Taking the hot towel offered by a servant, Rukia gave Renji a shy smile. “I can never get over your hair like that.”

 _And I can never get over how you’re a real lady now_ , Renji thought, watching how the servants flustered nervously around Rukia. Instead of saying any of that, he pulled on a lock that seemed determined to hang in front of his eyes. “Eh, you must’ve seen it down. We were together all the time.”

“Yes, but you were… different then,” she laughed shook her head. “And, anyway, your hair was shorter.”

Renji was just about to ask Rukia what she thought about the idea of him growing his hair even longer, when Byakuya touched his knee, drawing his attention. “Taicho?”

“You know everyone else at the table, Renji, but I should introduce you to my cousin: Shinobu Kuchiki.” Byakuya indicated the boy beside Aunt Masama. “My heir.”

Masama smiled as proudly as if the child was her own. Renji meanwhile had no idea what to say to someone who would be the twenty-ninth head of the Kuchiki clan. So, he bowed as lowly as he could while sitting at the table.

When Renji came back up, Byakuya continued, “Nothing is formalized, of course, but this morning Aunt Masama has proposed Shinobu and I have accepted. If things continue to meet my approval, we will perform the coming of age ceremony, the genpuku, in a year’s time.” 

In a year, Byakuya would be free of the kenseikan… forever. He’d be clan head until the day he died, but the constant pressure to produce an heir would be gone. There were probably thousands of other implications that Renji couldn’t grasp, but he knew it was a huge step for Byakuya. The whole thing seemed important and momentous and the only thing Renji thought to say was, “Wow.”

Squeezing Renji’s knee under the table, Byakuya fought to suppress a smile. Aunt Masama scowled. Rukia lifted her sleeve to cover her face. The heir watched the exchange with wide eyes.

The heir was a cute kid, though surprisingly un-Kuchiki. His hair was brown, not black, and looked like it might curl into corkscrews if it grew long enough. At the moment, it was cut short, above his ears. A small, rather un-regal nose sat in the middle of a friendly, open face. The eyes were all Kuchiki, though: huge and stormy dark gray and surrounded by thick, almost feminine lashes. 

He’d grow up fine looking. No prize like Byakuya, but there was a curiosity in Shinobu’s gaze that Renji liked a lot. In fact, Renji wasn’t sure he’d ever seen such an expressive, inquisitive Kuchiki. 

Eh, the family’d probably beat it out of the poor kid in no time. 

“Shinobu reminds me of myself at that age,” Byakuya said quietly, fondly.

Damn, Renji hadn’t been entirely serious with that thought and now he had to swallow a ‘what the hell did they do to you?!’ 

Rukia smiled at Shinobu and said, “Welcome. Will you be staying at the estate?”

Shinobu nodded meekly, and with a very hesitant glance at Aunt Masama said, “I also hope to go to Academy.”

“Of course you’ll go,” Masama said.

Renji bit his tongue not to add ‘if he passes the exams’ but probably with blood like his there wasn’t much of a doubt. And, maybe it really didn’t matter. Even without talent it was probably important for him to be a member of the Gotei since the Sixth Division was…

Kuchiki.

Shit. Renji kind of hoped to… well, no. If Byakuya fell, Renji’d go down with him. Still, with them both gone, Renji’d much rather see Rukia in charge than someone who just inherited the division along with the estate. 

Byakuya seemed to have similar thoughts because his lips were thin. “We shall see. I had years of private tutoring before I went to Academy. Attendance is not a guaranteed right, but a privilege.”

“Tell me what Academy was like, Kuchiki-sama,” Shinobu asked, his eyes hopeful.

Servants interrupted with a first course. Renji sighed to see the tiny mouthful of… art on his plate. There was a sprig of some herb and what looked like jelly and a tiny bit of sushi. Well, he’d wait until everyone else was done to plop it in his mouth. Otherwise he was going to be finished way before anyone else. 

Renji was still thinking about how to make the tiny portion last when Byakuya said, “Renji, Rukia, why don’t you tell Shinobu what Academy was like for you?”

Renji looked over at Rukia who gave him a ‘you-first’ nod. Shinobu had turned his attention to Renji eagerly. Renji couldn’t help but smile at the kid. “I loved almost every minute of it,” he said. Except, of course, the day I lost Rukia, he thought, trying not to let that show on his face or glance over at her. “There’s so much to learn: zanjutsu, hakuda, kidō—“

“Not that you ever learned kidō,” Rukia interrupted with a laugh.

Renji chuckled in agreement, but added lightly, “I know enough. I can use it in battle—stunned an Espada with it just the other day, thank you very much. I can make a tiny little wobbly light, too. I didn’t see you doing that, hotshot.”

“Have you been practicing?” Byakuya wondered.

“Well, yeah, of course,” Renji admitted. “When am I not training? Anyway, it’s not like it’s news to me that my big weakness is kidō. The other day Urahara pointed out that most of my techniques in bankai are basically reiatsu manipulation. It’s the same principle, I guess… though I ain’t figured out exactly how it all relates, that gave me something to start with.”

“You have bankai? But you’re only a lieutenant,” Shinobu glanced meaningfully at Byakuya. “I thought only captains were allowed bankai.”

“It’s not a matter of allowance or restriction,” Byakuya explained patiently. “Bankai is a matter of ability, strength of spiritual pressure, readiness, and, of course, the depth of one’s personal relationship with one’s zanpakutō.” After a delicate nibble of the appetizer, Byakuya added, “Besides, you heard Renji. He is a very diligent and determined soul. There are few shinigami who train as hard as he.”

Even though Byakuya said it all without a hint of emotion, Renji felt his face turning bright crimson under what seemed like effusive compliments. “Uh, and my bankai is still really new,” Renji told Shinobu. “I… kind of pushed to get it, so, you know, it’s not like the captain’s. I’ve only had it for a couple of weeks, really.”

Wow, was that true? Even as he said it, Renji calculated. Yeah, maybe it was more like three or four weeks, but really hadn’t been that long at all since… Renji glanced over at Byakuya. Of course, his face betrayed nothing. But the little heir seemed to twig to the idea that there was a story there.

“Oooh, did you use your bankai to fight the invaders?”

“No,” Aunt Masama huffed, “He used it against his captain.”

Renji opened his mouth, but then he shut it. He had no desire to make excuses for something he didn’t regret—especially not to Aunt Masama. Byakuya’s jaw flexed. Rukia’s smile faltered, and her fists curled in her lap. Renji nudged her thigh with his knee to let her know he didn’t blame her for any of it. The way things were going at that time he and the captain would have come to blows about something eventually.

Shinobu looked confused. His eyes locked on Renji as he very seriously asked, “You went bankai to bankai with Kuchiki-sama? Why aren’t you dead?’

Renji couldn’t help but laugh a little. Obviously the kid was a hundred and ten percent Team Kuchiki. No doubt a quality you wanted in a future clan head. “Good question,” Renji acknowledged. He scratched his neck thoughtfully, “I honestly don’t know the answer. I guess I’m too damned stubborn to die.”

“A fortunate turn of events,” Byakuya added quietly, his eyes downcast. But, then he looked up and gave Shinobu a hard look. “However, let it be understood that it is the duty of a soldier to disobey unlawful and illegal orders. Renji was carrying out that onerous task when he took up arms against me.” Byakuya’s gaze shifted to his aunt. “All other insubordinate acts against the division have already been dealt with to the satisfaction of its captain and that of the Captain-Commander. We will speak of this incident no more.”

As nice as it was to have Byakuya defend him so thoroughly that kind of killed conversation. 

Renji took the opportunity to shove the sushi appetizer into his mouth. Something, like a slice of hot pepper, made his sinuses clear out in a hurry. The jelly-sauce was smooth and soothing, but Renji couldn’t really taste it over the heat. He took a sip of sake to try to put out the fire in his mouth.

Rukia looked miserable. Renji figured she was feeling guilty about the fact that she started all that mess, or she was thinking about Ichigo and missing him something fierce. 

Or both.

Aio came by and scooped up Renji’s plate and replaced it with a small ceramic pot and a little spoon. The pot itself was gorgeous. Glazed Kuchiki blue, a hand-painted image of a snowy egret lifting its wings for flight graced both lid and sides. Thankfully, whatever was inside smelled warm and sweet.

It was the little Kuchiki who broke the oppressive silence. “Is it true that cousin Hiroko has a zanpakutō?”

Renji hadn’t heard about this. His ears perked up.

Aunt Masama tisked her tongue disapprovingly.

Ignoring his aunt, Byakuya nodded to the boy. Opening up the pot, Byakuya picked up his spoon. All around the table, everyone followed suit. Renji was happy to see something that looked like hot egg custard topped with bean curd skin and sea urchin inside. Byakuya dipped his spoon in and said, “Yes. Hataorimushi. It is somewhat of a mystery how Hiroko called Hataorimushi without an ausachi, but it came when needed.”

“This was the cousin that was kidnapped?” Renji asked. He was bummed to hear that he’d missed out going after her, but it made sense that Byakuya couldn’t wait. “Are you saying she pulled shikai? Sounds like rescued herself, eh?”

“She did,” Byakuya agreed cautiously. “But, I hesitate to think what kind of desperation would have cause Hataorimushi to come in such circumstances.”

Renji paused with a spoon of egg custard halfway to his mouth. She hadn’t been raped had she? Ah shit, how could he even ask a question like that? Renji tried to read the answer in Byakuya’s face, but the stony blankness he saw there was far from comforting. “She’s okay, though, right?”

“I believe she is,” Byakuya said. “Regardless, Academy is the balm she has craved for many wounds.”

Okay, there was a story there. Renji glance at Rukia, but she didn’t seem to know anything given how wide and curious her eyes were, too. Aunt Masama just looked pissed off about everything, so it was impossible to tell if she knew anything either. Renji guessed the full story would have to come out later, when he and Byakuya were in private.

“Will cousin Hirako be coming for your birthday, nii-sama?” Rukia asked.

“We shall see,” Byakuya said. “She’s very excited to begin her studies and I feel it would be a far better gift to all Kuchiki if she were to stay and pursue them.”

“But, Byakuya,” Aunt Masama said looking at Shinobu, “This is a momentous occasion. Not only is there a major announcement to make to the family, but also you’re having your sesquicentennial.” 

Sesqui… what? Renji glanced at Rukia who whispered, “A hundred-and-fiftieth.” 

Byakuya was turning a hundred and fifty? Renji blinked, trying to absorb this information. He just couldn’t. So he blurted out, “Wait, you’re younger than me, Taicho?”

**Author's Note:**

> The coming of age ceremony mentioned here is a real thing, though I'm using it more as an investiture than as a samurai coming of age. 
> 
> Thanks go to Josey as usual. Also, I'm posting this to you from Bearskin Lodge in the great north woods of the far north of Minnesota.


End file.
